


Relapse

by Essence_of_Silence



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gary is overwhelmed with his studies in Sinnoh, Gay Male Character, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Professor Oak is the best grandpa, Relapse, Self-Harm, depiction of cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Essence_of_Silence/pseuds/Essence_of_Silence
Summary: Relapses happen, he thinks as he fishes his first aid kit out from under his bed and tends to his wounds, but they’re not the end of the world.Being the youngest in his program in Sinnoh brings some challenges for Gary as he struggles with the stress of the final semester of his studies. Fortunately, his grandfather is there to help him pick himself back up.
Relationships: Ookido Shigeru | Gary Oak & Ookido Yukinari-hakase | Professor Samuel Oak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> I experimented a bit with style and tense in this, hopefully it reads alright. There's never enough Gary and Professor Oak interactions, so here's a bit more of it.
> 
> **Trigger Warning**  
> This deals with self-harm. This specifically deals with a cutting relapse and mentions bullying. If this is triggering for you, I encourage you to read this only in a good headspace. That said, over two-thirds of this is loving and supportive Gary-Gramps interaction.

**Relapse**

Cold metal gleams in the dark room. Pale fingers carefully turn the pocket knife, silently weighing the blade and deliberating the actions that would follow. 

He shouldn’t… But the need for release is eating at him, has been for hours. Days. The thoughts have been there for weeks.

_ “You’re only here because of your grandfather.” _

_ “Grandpa’s not here to do the work for you, Oak.” _

It’s the same thing every time he goes somewhere new. The same taunts and snide comments. But Sinnoh's not new anymore and his frustrations are only growing. No one can ever just accept that Gary’s talents for research are his own and not just someone else hyping up his relationship to Kanto’s top professor.

The thought of Gramps should be enough for him to put the blade down and resort to a healthy coping mechanism. He could call the professor, just to talk, just to hear his warm and familiar voice. But the old man would be able to tell that something’s wrong in an instant. 

The last thing Gary wants is to worry him with an impending relapse. Again.

_ “Ha, his blastoise lost against a charizard? How pathetic.” _

The knife presses against the flesh of his upper arm and Gary holds his breath for a moment. It’s not too late to put it down...

_ “You’ll never make it.” _

_ “Did Grandpa pack your lunch for you too, Oak?”  _

It all echoes through his head, swirling in a cacophony of negativity. As if he needed more of it…

The blade presses further into his flesh and he feels the sting of broken skin. No blood falls. It’s just a scratch, so far. 

_ “Oh great, Oak’s in the lab. Didn’t realize I’d have to babysit today.” _

The lousy day, lousy week, he’s had wins out. The frustration bubbles up, he releases his breath and pulls the pocket knife sharply along his skin.

Red immediately wells up and stains the blade. A drop of blood drips down his arm and a harsh sigh escapes him.

No turning back now…

_ “Sayda Project? Come on, you know that was just his grandfather pulling strings.” _

_ “How many of those badges did you  _ actually  _ earn? Or did Grandpa just buy them too? _ ”

The blade repositions. The hand holding it feels like it’s not entirely his own. It certainly doesn’t feel like his own action when he pulls it against his arm once more. 

The blood comes faster this time. It runs down his arm in a crimson rivulet that threatens to stain the jeans he wears.

“ _ Field experience? What a joke!” _

_ “I bet he just paid someone to evolve those pokemon.” _

_ “Oh yeah, let’s just let a  _ kid _ in the lab. What could go wrong?” _

A third cut joins the others, deeper and longer. The sting cuts through some of the thoughts and more blood trails along his bicep. Some of the once-familiar relief floods into his system. The knife tumbles to the floor with a clatter.

A different feeling fills Gary as he examines the new cuts: shame. 

It’s been  _ months.  _ The scars from his last relapse have mostly faded. The scars from the original habit still mar his forearm, but they’re pale. Pale enough that few people notice, even with him leaving them bare with short sleeves. 

His fingers gently prod at the third cut, the blood smears across his arm and fingers. He sighs. It’s long enough that it might peak out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt.  _ Fuck.  _ That’s  _ just  _ what he needs.

The cuts are tender and the pain starts to bring him back to himself. Another sigh escapes him and he hangs his head. He should have just gone for a run with Umbreon like he normally does… Except that wasn’t safe with Team Galactic becoming more and more bold in the region.

_ “Did you really think you could fight off Galactic, Gary? Get real!” _

He groans as he picks the knife off the floor and idly examines it. It’s not as bad as last time, but still…  _ Should’ve just called Gramps… _ He wipes the blade on the towel from last night’s shower, still laying on the floor where he tossed it then. The dorm room is a mess, much like his mind.

Suddenly, the telephone rings. 

Gary spares a glance at the screen and gives a short laugh.  _ Of course _ . It’s nighttime in Sinnoh, late enough that he really should be getting ready for bed, but it’s only evening in Pallet. He folds the blade into the handle and sets the pocket knife on the desk.

A second ring cuts through the silent dorm. Gary hesitates another moment before lifting the receiver from the cradle. 

“Hey, Gramps,” he mumbles as he leans heavily against the wall beside the desk.

“Hiding?” 

Gary can hear the concern beneath the professor’s amusement. He closes his eyes against the tears forming. “Yeah…”

It’s quiet for a moment and Gary silently struggles to keep the shame at bay. The tears threaten but he tries to keep his breathing normal. The state of his dorm and the fact that he’s staying out of view of the camera phone is enough to tell his grandfather he’s not okay. He doesn’t need to alarm him further.

“I… spoke to Professor Rowan this afternoon.”

“Yeah?” He tries to sound curious, but his voice sounds small and strained even to him. He knows his grandfather hears it.

“He says you’ve been quiet, withdrawn… He’s worried about you.”

Gary’s breath catches at that. He thought he’d hidden his inner turmoil better, though hearing of his mentor’s concern brings a small glimmer of relief. Knowing that someone in Sinnoh actually gives a shit… A tear escapes and traces down his cheek.

“I am, as well.”

Gary sucks in a shaky breath. His grandfather always could see right through him… even when he couldn’t actually see him.

“It’s never easy being the youngest on a research team. Professor Rowan and your other instructors see what’s happening. They hear what the others say…”

It takes sincere effort to keep the echoes of the others’ words out of his head and another tear falls. 

“I miss you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them.

“I miss you, too.” 

More tears fall and he presses his free hand to his mouth to keep his grandfather from hearing. But, somehow, he knows. He always does.

“They’re just jealous, Gary. The people who matter see your talent, they believe in you… Just like I do.”

Gary takes another shaky breath and nods, though he knows his grandfather can’t see it. “I know,” he manages to choke out.

His grandfather sighs on the other end of the line. “Stop hiding, Gary. It’s okay to be upset and overwhelmed. Just talk to me, alright?”

He looks down at his blood-stained fingers and hesitates. It’ll come out, somehow. He knows it. 

Finally, he takes a deep breath and tugs down the sleeve of his t-shirt to cover the new cuts. He can keep it from his grandfather if he’s careful enough. 

He avoids looking at his grandfather as he sinks into his desk chair. Searching for something else to fixate on, his gaze falls on the pocket knife beside the screen. He sighs at the sight of it and reaches out to push it behind the screen and out of his sight. 

“I think you’ve gotten taller.” 

Gary can hear the smile in his grandfather’s voice but still doesn’t look at him. He shrugs listlessly and looks down at the hand resting in his lap. The blood on his fingers is drying quickly but the shame is still eating at him.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and spares a glance at the screen. His grandfather holds a hand against the screen and Gary resists the urge to reach out as well. 

“Your studies are almost done. You just have to hang in there a month longer and then you can take as long a break as you need.”

The thought of staying in Sinnoh any longer fills him with dread, even if it’s just until his final exams. He needs a break  _ now _ . He’s needed one for months but he’s continued to push himself further and further. 

He shakes his head helplessly and tries to see the light at the end of the long tunnel that has been his time in Sinnoh. He had loved it when he first came but now his younger age stands in his way more and more. The others seem to get worse with each passing week. It's not his fault he stands to graduate at the very age most students enter the program he's in. He should feel proud of his progress, of all he's done, but he just feels tired. 

Burned out at the ripe old age of seventeen. But he can't voice that cynicism to his grandfather. He can't really voice anything at the moment. Any attempt to speak will likely turn him into a sobbing wreck. 

"When was the last time you had a day off?"

Gary shrugs again. "No time," he barely manages to say. 

"I can talk to -" His grandfather trails off as Gary shakes his head. "You need a break, even if it’s just one day.”

He wipes away some of the tears with the back of his free hand. “I know that.”

The professor is silent on the other end and Gary realizes his mistake. 

He chances a glance at the screen and follows his grandfather’s gaze to his upper arm. The blood has stopped flowing by this point and has dried into a few rust-colored streaks. The cuts are still hidden beneath the sleeve but the movement may as well have revealed them.

“You did it again…” the old man observes quietly. 

Gary hangs his head in defeat. “Yeah.” The one word feels as though it has to be ripped from him. The effort to keep himself from not falling apart right then and there is extraordinary. The professor knows this, of course.

“Oh, Gary…” His voice wavers faintly but there’s no blame, no anger, nothing of the sort. 

The younger researcher bites his lip but the sob spills out anyway. “I tried.”

“I know you did.” 

The professor presses his hand to the screen again and this time Gary raises his own. It’s no substitute for actual physical contact, but the support it conveys is a help, at least. Still, his shoulders tremble with the effort to keep in more sobs. Falling apart won’t do anything.

“I’m sorry.”

But his grandfather won’t hear it. He shushes the boy immediately. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” he says firmly.

Gary’s resolve immediately crumbles and he quickly raises his hand to his mouth to at least quiet some of the sobs that break forth.

“It’s okay,” his grandfather reiterates, still so firm but as gentle and warm as ever. “I’ve been in your position, I know how overwhelming it is right now… When you’re so close to the end of your studies and there’s still so much to do, but it feels as though the whole world is against you for no reason. It’s hard, I understand.”

Gratitude swells within him, but Gary is far beyond words at this point. The professor, fortunately, seems to understand this and lets him have a few precious moments to succumb to the break down.

It’s only after the sobs have died down to quiet sniffles that the older man speaks again. “Is that all that’s going on, or is there something else that brought this on?” 

Gary shakes his head. “Just too much,” he tries to explain but his voice quavers too much to say any more. 

The professor gently shushes him again. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed.” Gary sees his eyes travel back to the dried blood on his arm. “How bad was it this time?”

Swallowing hard, Gary shifts the receiver to sit between his ear and shoulder in order to push the sleeve of his t-shirt up to expose the three cuts. His grandfather lets out an audible sigh of relief and it feels almost as though a weight lifts from Gary’s shoulders.

“Only those three?” Gary nods and the professor gives him a reassuring smile. He knows it’s partially forced but relief floods him when he speaks again. “That’s much better than last time.”

That acknowledgement pulls a small laugh from Gary. Terrible as he still feels about it, it’s true that this is nowhere near as bad as his previous relapse when weeks of cutting left his upper arm noticeably scarred. A glance up at the rainbow flag proudly displayed on his wall reminds him of how he had pulled out of  _ that _ dark place of discovery and acceptance.

His grandfather sees this and gives him a genuine smile. “You’re strong,” he reminds him softly, “and smart. But even the best of us stumble when the path gets rocky. It’s okay to fall and need help getting back up.”

A faint smile finally curves Gary’s lips, likely the first one in weeks. “Thanks, Gramps.”

“Of course.” His smile turns stern after a moment. “Now I need you to do something for me.” 

Already knowing where this is going, Gary reaches around the back of the screen to retrieve the folded pocket knife. He holds it up for his grandfather to see. “Some place out of sight?”

The professor nods. “Preferably somewhere you won’t be searching for the rest of the semester, unless you’ll be in the field?”

Shaking his head, Gary stands and crosses the room to his dresser. “Too dangerous with Team Galactic around,” he explains simply. He stoops to open the bottom drawer and shoves the knife under a pair of jeans that are too snug to comfortably wear anymore. 

His grandfather takes in a sharp breath at the mention of Sinnoh’s reigning crime syndicate. “I’ll be very grateful when you’re out of that region.” Gary can’t help but nod in agreement as he closes the drawer and crosses the room again. “And your dissection kit?”

Gary sinks back into the desk chair with a disgusted look. “I am  _ not _ cutting myself with that scalpel.” He resists the urge to roll his eyes at his grandfather’s stern look. “I need it for anatomy lab, it’s in my bag.”

“It’s to stay there except for your lab, understood?” Gary nods. “And you’re going to call me as soon as class lets out each day.” Another nod and the professor’s stern gaze softens. “The last semester is always hard, Gary. Call me anytime you’re feeling overwhelmed, okay? Even if you have to call me twenty times a day for the next month. I’m here for you.”

Gary takes a deep breath and nods once more. They’ve done this routine before and though he wishes they didn’t have to do this, he feels nothing short of gratitude and relief to hear his grandfather bringing it back without any trace of annoyance or, worse, disappointment. 

He feels his eyes prickling again and pinches the bridge of his nose to try to stave them off again. “Thank you.”

The professor, of course, seems to understand just how much it means to him. “You’re very welcome, Gary. I love you.”

A tear escapes before Gary can blink it back but he gives his grandfather the best smile he can muster. “Love you too. I’m gonna try my best to keep it together.”

“Relapses happen, Gary. But no matter how many times you stumble and fall, I’ll still be here to help you back up. Even if I call you tomorrow to find a dozen new cuts, I’ll still love and support you.”

“Thanks.”

The professor smiles, but the seriousness in his gaze remains. “Although if that happens, I might just take the next flight up there and force you to stay in a hotel room with me for the rest of the semester.”

Gary can’t help but laugh a bit at the threat, though he knows his grandfather is far from joking. “It won’t happen, I promise.”

The professor’s expression doesn’t change. “Even if that promise is broken, whether it’s tomorrow or next week or years from now, my promise won’t change. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Another tear falls and Gary quickly wipes it away, giving his grandfather a mild glare. “Stop making me cry, dammit,” he laughs.

His grandfather gives a laugh of his own in response and holds his hand against the screen again. Gary presses his own hand against his side of the screen and meets the older man’s eyes despite how much he tries to blink back more tears. There’s nothing but love and support in those eyes and it’s so very hard not to let more tears fall, even if he  _ has _ cried more in the last hour than he likely has in the past year.

“Wash up and get some rest, Gary. Hang in there just a little bit longer.”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Okay, Gramps. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Exhaustion washes over him as they hang up a moment later but he feels better than he has in weeks. The fresh cuts on his arm ache and his throat is sore from the harsh sobs he’s dealt with, but his head feels clearer. 

The relapse was inevitable with the stress of his final semester, and the taunts from his fellow students, and all of Team Galactic's nonsense, he figures. But his grandfather is right, he remembers, he  _ is  _ strong. He’ll get through it. 

He’s been through worse. He’s come through it and he will come through this too.

Even if he comes out of this with even more scars, he’ll still be strong and he’ll still have people who love and support him. 

Relapses happen, he thinks as he fishes his first aid kit out from under his bed and tends to his wounds, but they’re not the end of the world. 

Life is hard, he figures as he changes into pajamas and crawls into bed, but things always get better, even if it takes time.

**Author's Note:**

> I dealt with a self-harm relapse this week and had to write to process it. I'm okay now and writing this really helped. I hope if anyone reading this is dealing with something similar that they have someone who can be a Professor Oak to their Gary.
> 
> As one of my favorite movie quotes of all time says: it can't rain all the time. (From the movie The Crow)


End file.
